Chapter 257 Paint the Streets Red

Chapter 257 Paint the Streets Red
The ride back to the penthouse was silent. Lucius drove with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping Marita’s thigh possessively. She sat beside him in his oversized shirt and torn boxer shorts, her wild curls messy and her eyes still red from earlier tears.

The moment the private elevator doors closed, Lucius turned to her, voice edged with fury.

“You are never going out without me again.”

Marita spun to face him, hands on her hips. “Mi not a baby, Lucius. Mi can walk by myself. Mi no need a bodyguard every second.”

His jaw clenched. He backed her against the wall, one hand bracing beside her head. “You almost got taken today. Four men had their hands on you. If I’d been even one minute later..”

“But yu came!” she interrupted, eyes flashing with annoyance. “Mi fought them too. Mi no weak girl who just cry and wait fi man fi save her. Mi from Vanuatu, mi know how to fight.”

“You’re not in Vanuatu anymore,” he growled. “This city will eat you alive. You walked out in my shirt and boxers with no phone, no plan. That wasn’t exploring, Marita. That was reckless.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “Mi was hungry. Yu fridge only had fancy nonsense. Mi wanted real food. Mi no expect New York to turn bad so quick.”

Lucius’s eyes darkened. “You could have been raped or killed in that alley.”

Marita poked his chest. “Yu no get to lock mi inside like some pretty doll. Mi have legs. Mi can think for myself.”

“You do belong to me,” he said, voice dropping low as he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his racing heart. “Every inch. And I’ll lock you in this penthouse for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”

The elevator dinged at the penthouse floor, but neither moved.

“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he muttered.

Marita smiled, eyes still burning. “And yu the most bossy, overprotective man mi ever meet. But mi still like yu anyway.”

With a frustrated growl, Lucius crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss was hard, punishing, and Marita kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers fisting his shirt.

When they broke apart, he scooped her up. Marita wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her inside, arms locked around her thighs like steel.

“Put mi down,” she muttered, nipping his neck. “Mi no need yu carrying mi like some helpless pickney.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I’ve checked every inch of you.” He kicked the bedroom door open and tossed her onto the massive bed.

Marita bounced once, then scrambled to her knees. “Yu think yu can just throw mi around?” She crawled toward him. “Mi not yu toy, big man.”

Lucius grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the edge. “You were running around the city in my clothes asking for trouble. Now you’re mine to handle.”

She laughed and lunged, ripping his shirt open, buttons flying. Her nails raked down his chest. “Den handle mi,” she taunted, voice husky. “Or yu all talk?”

His control snapped. He shoved her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand and pressing his heavy body down on hers. “You’re going to get in so much trouble because of that mouth.”

“Good.” Marita wrapped her legs around him and rolled her hips, grinding against his hard bulge in dirty, obscene circles. “Mi like yu rough. But mi rough too.”

She twisted suddenly, using her legs to flip their positions. Straddling him, she rocked harder, faster, her torn shirt slipping off one shoulder.

Lucius’s hands gripped her hips bruisingly. “You think you can top me, little bird?” He sat up, fisted her curls, and attacked her throat with bites and sucking kisses. “This body belongs to me.”

“Yu belong to mi too,” she gasped, scratching his back. “Mi no baby… mi yu woman. Yu want fi lock mi up? Den yu better fuck mi senseless first. But no yet — mi still angry wid yu, bossy man.”

He flipped her again with a feral sound, pinning her beneath him. Their bodies moved together in rough, desperate friction, hips rolling, nails digging, teeth grazing until they were both panting and aching.

Then Lucius slowed, breathing ragged. “Not yet,” he growled against her lips. “You’re still shaking from that alley. I need to hold you first… then I’m going to wreck you properly.”

Marita whined but let him pull her close, curling into his chest even as she poked his ribs. “Yu no fair. Big strong man scared of one small island girl.”

“Terrified,” he admitted softly, kissing her damp curls, arms wrapping around her like he’d never let go. “Because you’re impossible… and I’m never letting you go.”

Marita smiled against his skin.

This fight was definitely not over.



Hours later, in a dimly lit parking lot behind a row of abandoned warehouses, three battered men leaned against a beat-up sedan. They passed a bottle of cheap whiskey with shaky hands, faces bruised and swollen. One kept pressing a dirty rag to deep scratches running down his neck.

Rico's eyes narrowed, hate twisting his bruised face.

"If I ever see that little bitch again," he spat, "I'll make sure she regrets scratching me."

Tony snorted. "After what happened tonight? You're still thinking about her?"

"Damn right I am." Rico took a drag from his cigarette. "Nobody makes a fool out of me like that. Nobody."

Mike shook his head. "Forget the girl. Worry about the psycho who nearly killed Ricky."

Rico opened his mouth to reply—

The streetlight above them flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then died.

A thick, unnatural chill settled over the lot.

A tall figure stepped out from between the warehouses.

He walked toward them slowly, each step deliberate. His eyes glowed with an eerie golden-red light that cut through the darkness. The temperature seemed to drop with every stride.

The men froze.

"It's him..." Tony whispered, his voice cracking.

Rico's cigarette slipped from his lips. "How the fuck did he find us?"

Mike backed up until his spine hit the car. "Look, man, we didn't know she was yours! We were just messing around…"

Lucius stopped a few feet away.

When he spoke, his voice sounded wrong. His deep tone was layered with something ancient and guttural.

"You forfeited your lives for a moment of base desire."

The words landed like a death sentence.

Rico turned and ran.

He didn't even make it two steps.

Lucius moved in a blur.

One moment he stood several feet away.

The next, his clawed hand was wrapped around Rico's throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Shadowy tendrils curled around his body like living smoke. For a split second, faint curved horns shimmered above Lucius's temples.

"You put your filthy hands on her."

Rico clawed desperately at Lucius's wrist, choking as his boots kicked uselessly above the pavement.

It didn't matter.

Lucius tightened his grip.

A sickening crack split the night.

Rico's eyes bulged.

Then Lucius's claws punched through the side of his neck.

Blood spilled down his arm as Rico's body went instantly limp.

Without a trace of emotion, Lucius ripped his hand free and tossed the corpse aside like garbage.

Tony screamed and lunged with the knife.

The blade never reached its target. Lucius caught it in his bare palm, and the metal snapped like cheap plastic. Tony froze, eyes widening with raw terror for the first time that night.

“Please…” he whispered, voice cracking.

Lucius’s lips curved into a cold, fanged smile. “You wanted to frighten her.”

His hand clamped around Tony’s face, fingers digging into flesh and bone. “Now you know fear.”

Tony’s scream tore through the parking lot as Lucius slammed his head into the side of the sedan—once, twice, three times. The metal crumpled with a sickening crunch, blood streaking across the dented door. When Lucius finally released him, Tony collapsed beside the car like a puppet whose strings were cut.

Mike dropped to his knees.

"Oh God... please..." he sobbed. "I'm sorry. We didn't know."

Lucius turned toward him slowly.

His eyes burned brighter.

Not with anger.

With judgment.

Mike’s entire body shook as Lucius seized him by the front of his shirt and dragged him forward.

“You knew enough,” Lucius growled.

Mike opened his mouth to beg, but he never got the chance.

Lucius’s clawed hand slammed straight through his chest with brutal force. Mike’s eyes widened in shock as a wet, choking gasp escaped his lips. Blood poured down the front of his shirt. For one horrifying second, he stared down at the clawed hand protruding from his ribcage.

Then Lucius ripped it free in a spray of blood and guts.

Mike crumpled to the pavement, dead before he hit the ground.

A heavy silence fell over the parking lot once more.

Only the distant hum of the city remained.

Lucius stood among the bodies as the demonic features slowly faded. The claws retracted. The shadows dissolved. His eyes dimmed back to steel gray until he looked almost human once more.

Almost.

He glanced down at his bloodstained hands.

Then up at the night sky.

"No one will ever hurt you again, little bird," he murmured, his voice rough with lingering rage and something far softer.

He turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Back at the penthouse, Marita slept peacefully in the massive bed, curled beneath sheets that still smelled like him. One hand clutched his pillow unconsciously.

She had no idea her overprotective man had just painted the streets red for her.